


Afraid

by firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin



Series: Werewolf!AU | Beauty and the Beast [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Blood and Injury, Brotherly Bonding, Family Bonding, Hurt/Comfort, Wolf Pack, sound sensitivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin/pseuds/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Damian wasn’t scared, and one time he was.<br/><b>Alternatively:</b> Five times Damian could fight his fears, and one time he couldn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> **Songs:** Afraid ― The Neighbourhood; Wolf ― EXO
> 
>  **WARNING!** The time skip is needed, even when it leaves plot holes. Most of the one-shots will be intertwined to make a bigger picture, to make sense, but, if you only thinks about reading specific ones and the longer fic, go for it! I’ll make sure that the long-fic will be filling all of it, to make sense even if you didn’t read the ones before! :D
> 
>  **Ps.:** just to mention it, I'm always late answering reviews, and it's not because I don't love them. ~~it's just that I'm an awkward person~~

_When I wake up I’m afraid, somebody else might take my place_

_Being me only can mean feeling scared to breath_

_[and if you leave me then I’ll be afraid of everything]_

**I**

Damian can’t be more than two at the time ― he’d understand things better if he was older.

Talia’s been sleeping with him since he was a baby, her arms always surrounding him in a motherly way, her fingers always rubbing his back and his hair, making him warm and comfortable; sometimes with Bruce, sometimes not. She never lets him alone, **ever** , and, when she’s busy with something else she lets him with Jason ou Dick ― but usually Jason. So, it’s not an overstatement to say that Damian’s never alone, that he’s always surrounded by people and noise.

He doesn’t understand when, one night, Talia brings him to a different room when she’s trying to make him sleep. Jason’s with her ― Jason’s always with her, for as long as Damian can remeber ―, his eyebrows arched and his lips pressed in a thin line. Damian knows that his expression usually means something bad, like Cassandra being hurt or Bruce being hurt; it’s not a **knowledge** , it works more as a sense. He knows what it means, but he doesn’t know why or how.

“Don’t you think it’s too early for this?” Jason’s shoulders are tense, his pupils wide, his eyes full of worry. He’s warm, Damian knows. Warm and safe. _he’s like mother._ “The kid can barely walk without trippin’ over his feet.”

“He’s old enough.”

Jason doesn’t seem happy, but follows her nonetheless, and Damian watches them carefully. He’s curious, even more when Talia lays him on a strange bed. Damian immediately sits, making grabby hands at her. He doesn’t like it. It’s cold, it’s big. _it’s different from mother’s arms._ When she notices the unhappiness in his face, Talia’s shoulders tense up a little, and she leans in to rub his hair comfortingly.

“Ma.” Damian protests, frowning and grabbing her fingers. “Ma!”

He doesn’t talk yet ― he just understands that, doing the right sound, people will pick him up and let him do thing; most of the time, it’s Dick who spoils him. But now, away from him, Damian doesn’t feel like it’s working. Jason seems amused ― his lips parted, eyes even more wide ―, ready to take him, but Talia stops him.

“He needs to learn.” although she’s saying it to Jason, her eyes never leave Damian. “As you seem so eager to help him, you can stay.”

Jason rolls his eyes, and Damian doesn’t like the lack of attention, he doesn’t like to be ignored, and tries to cling to Talia’s hand when she starts to leave.

“Ma!” he repeats, louder, hoping that she’ll understand him and won’t go away. “Ma! Ma!”

“He’s a lot like you.” Jason comments, blinking with surprise, and Talia gives him an almost non-existent smile before freeing herself from her son’s grip.

“Goodnight, Damian.”

And, with a final rubb in his hair, Talia fastly leaves. Damian grabs the bars from his newly discovered prison, putting all his efforts into standing, all his body shaking. Jason approaches and sits next to him, watching Damin cautiously through the bars.

“Ma!” the younger boy demands. “Ma!”

“Talia’s not coming back.” Jason touches Damian’s tiny fingers with caution. “She’s as stubborn as you, little D.”

Damian doesn’t know what it means, but he’s not happy. He grabs Jason’s hand, startling the boy, his lips starting to tremble. When Damian talks again, his voice’s high-pitched and full of panic. Jason tenses up.

“Ma! Ma!”

“Shit.” the older boy curses under his breath when he notices the tears welling up in the baby’s eyes, immediately standing and going to grab him. “Shit, shit. Don’t cry, don’t cry!”

Damian clings to him, sniffling while Jason rubs his back desperately. It doesn’t work. _mother. he wants mother. he wants her now._ When Jason rocks him back and forth, however, warmth spreads inside the younger boy.

[ _thump-thump_ , hums the inside of Jason’s chest, the sound echoing through Damian’s brain and body, like a beating heart, rhythmical and calming. _thump-thump. thump-thump_ ]

“Hell, little D.” Jason presses his chin against Damian’s hair, his hands shaking, but his voice’s relieved, his breath warm. “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?”

Damian looks at him curiously. He doesn’t understand what Jason’s saying ― he doesn’t understand its meaning.

“Da.” he says, and grabs the boy’s hair. “Da!”

“What?” Jason’s eyes widen. “No, no. I’m not your father, boy, hush.”

“Da?”

“No. Jason. Jason Todd, Damian. Not dad.”

A moment or two pass, and Damian keeps staring at him without doing a sound.

“Odd?” he tries, and Jason furrows his eyebrows, freeing himself from the little hands that keep pushing his hair.

“Well, it’s good enough; sounds better than dad.”

Jason smiles at him ― a hint of proud in his eyes ―, and holds Damian against his chest once again, humming to him some old lullaby without really using words, rocking him back and forth while walking in the room to turn off the lights.

“Odd.” Damian repeats quietly, and yawns immediately after.

He can hear Jason’s laughter reverbating through his body.

[ _thump-thump_ , and Damian feels sleepy, he feels dizzy, snuggling against Jason’s chest. _thump-thump, thump-thump_ ― and it’s safe]

“Your mother’s gonna kill me.”

Jason improvises a bed for both of them, using only the blankets and the immense pillow that were in the crib. He curls up around Damian, both surrounded by warmth and comfort, and never complains about the way the boy clings to him. Just like this, Damian and Jason hold on to each other until they sleep ― deeply, quietly, together.

And if Talia sees something wrong with the scene in the next morning, she never tells.

**II**

Damian’s almost six ― and he likes to be carried around.

“Cass, you shouldn’t do this.” Jason looks at them, frowning. “He’s going to get lazy.”

Damian’s on Cassandra’s shoulders, his hands above her head, and she holds his legs securely against her collarbone. She’s the only one ― after Dick ― that doesn’t get bored of carrying him all the time; always being the first to volunteer when he says he wants somebody to carry him. Talia lets him, and Damian supposes it has something to do with the fact that she’s amused to see him being a demanding boy with all his brothers and sisters, because Bruce doesn’t always seem so happy with it.

“Stop giving her idiotic ideas, Todd.” Damian huffs. “I’m not going to get lazy. I’m just saving my legs from futile efforts.”

Jason gives him a strange look, like he can’t quite understand _why_ somebody would ever let a five-year-old boy talk like this ― well, Talia does, but he’s always saying that she, as ‘mother of the spoiled boy’ doesn’t count. Damian doesn’t really care; Jason complains and complains, but never refuses to carry him.

“Honestly? I preferred when you couldn’t talk, brat.”

Cassandra’s smile is tiny, and Damian scowls at Jason, but they’re fine like this. As Damian can’t properly transform yet, the others in the pack seem to agree that he might know every inch of his father’s property while still a boy, and take turns between taking him to the forest around the Wayne Manor and through Gotham. Damian likes the nature more than he likes the city, and somehow they always end up going to the forest.

[ _it’s quieter and safer and_ ― the only sound inside his head is his own heartbeat]

[ _until it isn’t_ ]

“What was that?”

Jason’s the first to look at him. Cassandra stops walking immediately.

“What?”

Damian’s already trying to get off the girl, struggling to free himself from her hold, but Cassandra doesn’t make it easier for him. His eyes search through the trees, through the bushes. He doesn’t know from where came the sound ― the low, sad song that shot through his brain like wild fire.

“That – that sound.”

[ _it comes again and mess with his nerves_ , Damian’s body shaking with the urge to understand why it’s so pained, so desperate ― _suffering_ , and he wants it to stop]

Cassandra holds his wrists when he threatens to fall of her shoulders, and Damian’s starting to get distressed. She doesn’t understand, she doesn’t want to help. _it needs to stop, it needs to stop now._ He starts kicking when Jason tries to approach.

“Put me down, Cain! Put me down, _put me down_!”

She only does it when Damian bites her hand with enough force to drawn blood ― and then, with a loud yelp, he falls to the ground, hitting his back first and losing his breath. Jason curses and pulls Cassandra, kneeling at Damian’s side and searching for any clear damage. Damian fights him, trying to get away from his hands. The taste in his mouth is salty, strange, his vision blurry. He crawls away from both Jason and Cassandra, his mind fuzzy with a despair that it’s not his, with the sound of his own heart beating erratically.

“Make it stop! Make it stop, Todd!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jason’s eyes show his confusion, his worry.

Cassandra watches them with sorrowful features.

“The sound! Stop it!”

“I don’t –”

[ _the howl of pain is higher than Jason’s voice_ ― getting louder and louder, sending jolts of doom and wrath through Damian’s bones, _and he can’t stop it_ ]

“Liar!”

And so he runs.

Damian ignores Jason shouting his name and run as fast as his legs allow, shaking all over.

His head hurts, his breath is raspy, loud.

Damian doesn’t know where he’s going ― he knows where he needs to go.

 _the sound reverbs inside his brain and into his body and under his skin_.

[ _faster, faster, faster_ ― louder]

There’s green everywhere. Green and brown and blue.

Damian’s head is spinning with all the pain, he feels nauseated. His stomach churns, but he can’t figure out what’s happening anymore.

He hears too much, too much, and it’s driving him crazy.

It’s not only a desperate cry for help anymore ― the whole forest is growling, roaring, ready to eat him alive.

_it’s going to eat him alive._

[ _under the layers of pain and distress, there’s a familiar howl ―_ a calling]

Damian trips over a a failure in the field, and the ground meets him with mud and small rocks, forming cuts in his palms, blood smearing around his fingers. For a moment, he only stays, his eyes glued to his shaky fingers, his right cheek pressed against the ground. It all stops suddenly, all the sounds, all the despair.

He feels numb.

Damian breathes, in and out, and close his eyes for a moment. There’s a burning ache in all his muscles, and it takes more than a minute to figure out how to sit up without falling again. He rubs his hands against his face, not bothering with the dirt or the way it hurts. Only then Damian notices the noise coming from the trees forward.

It sounds like keys hitting each other ― big, glued keys, surrounding and hurting something, someone, making it cry out for help.

He breathes deeply again, his chest tightening, and stands with weak legs and a pained body. He limps, his knees stinging, and soon Damian understands what’s going on.

There’s a strange creature ― all made of red fur and claws ( _and are these wings?!_ ) ― under a mash of iron. Damian watches when it struggles with the heavy trap above its body, and can’t help but feel sorry. He takes a step closer, and the pain from its cries shots his brain once more. Damian shrinks down, feeling hurt, and approaches.

The animal immediately stops fighting the mash, staring at the boy with wide, hurtful yellow eyes. Damian kneels next to the trap ― not too next, though ―, his hands tentatively reaching the iron, being followed by the strange eyes of the creature. It stings like it’s going to start burning him soon.

_it’s not iron. it’s silver._

_cursed silver._

Damian pushes the mash to himself, putting all his efforts into freeing the animal, who soon starts to understand what he’s doing, and tries to walk backwards. Working together, they manage to push all the mash against Damian’s knees.

[the distressed noise stops and there’s only ― _thump-thump, thump-thump_ , soft fur all over him, a low and happy sound reverbating through his bones ― and he can’t help but smile]

Damian accepts the care, blinking slowly, feeling heavy and even more numb than before. The creature curls around him, bigger than he thought it was, and he lays his head against its back.

[ _thump-thump_ ― quiet, quiet, calmer than before ―, _thump-thump, thump-thump_ ]

The last thing Damian sees is a colossal black wolf coming through the trees ― eyes ferocious and full of anger ―, and then dark engulfs him.

**.**

Damian wakes up to the sound of his mother’s heart and voice. His face is pressed against her chest, all his body surrounded by warmth and comfort, and her hands are caressing his back and hair. Unconsciously, he snuggles against her frame, breathing deeply and feeling Talia holding him tighter. She knows he’s awake, of course she knows, but she doesn’t say anything, and Damian’s happy with the silence.

He feels sore. His hands are hurting, and his muscles sting all over ― but his mother’s voice is softer, her breath calmer, and he tries to concentrate on her words, the song she so quietly sings to him. It’s the same old Arabic lullaby she used to sing to him when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, and it makes him feel safer.

It takes a minute or two for Talia to stop singing, and then she sighs, resting her head against his. Damian instinctively shrinks, his hands clinging to her clothes.

“You made me so worried, Damian.” Talia moves him away only to stare at him, and her eyes are still so fierce that he ends up almost feeling ashamed. Almost. A strange feeling instals inside his chest, and Damian looks away when his mother hugs him again. “What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed!”

He doesn’t know how to answer that ― and Talia doesn’t seem to wait for an answer; she’s too busy caressing his hair and bringing him closer, breathing deeply to calm herself down. Damian tries to match his breath to hers, not wanting to say anything, not wanting to take the risk of pissing her off. Talia rubs his cheeks with her thumbs in a gentle way.

“What happened, Damian?”

“It was too loud.” he confesses. “It was – it was so loud, mother.”

Talia blinks in surprise, stoping her movements for a second.

“What was too loud?”

“He was crying.” Damian nuzzles against her collarbone, scowling at himself for not being able to explain it properly. “It was hurting him. Where’s him?”

“The creature that was with you?”

He nods. Talia takes a moment to consider possibilities before holding him tighter, standing. Damian understands it, his arms surrounding her neck, and watches carefully while she takes him out of her and father’s room, walking through the Wayne Manor and leading both of them to Jason’s room. Damian frowns when she approaches the door ― he can hear not only Jason’s voice, but Stephanie’s too; what can only mean that Tim’s with them, once he seems to follow her everywhere.

When his mother knocks, the room goes silent, and Damian moves his head to see better. Jason opens the door rather abruptly, a scowl in his face.

“I already said that I’m not – wait, little D?” his eyes widen, his voice dropping from anger to confusion in a matter of seconds.

“Damian wants to see the animal.” Talia explains to the boy’s bewildered silence, and Jason furrows his eyebrows immediately.

“Bruce said that we should lock it somewhere until he can talk with Selina or someone in the Council.”

Despite his comment, Jason takes a step back and lets them in, receiving a small curve of lips from Talia beore she enters the room with Damian. He looks through the room, seeing Stephanie laying on the ground, Tim at her side and a ball of fur between them, its head on Drake’s stomach, sleeping pacefully.

Tim actually bothers to acknowledge them with a slow move of his hand, but Stephanie barely looks at them before letting her head fall to the ground again, whining and covering her eyes with an arm.

“Great! Now Mr. You’re-all-grounded-until-your-brother-gets-better will kill us all. I’m too young and too beautiful to die, Talia!”

Jason rolls his eyes and gives the girl a smug smile.

“You wish, Brown, you wish.”

Stephanie tries to kicks him, but Jason’s fast to move and she misses, and Talia’s actully _smilling_ for them. She puts Damian on the floor, her hands protectively holding his shoulders, ready to catch him if he as much as flinch. The other wolves watch with caution when he approaches the sleeping creature that lies on Tim, and he sits next only to watch it, his eyes full of enchantment.

“You gave us all a big scare, you know that, little demon?” Stephanie moves her hand to poke Damian’s nose, knowing how much it annoys him. “Bruce gave us all the whole ‘ _don’t lose your brother ever again_ ’ talk, and Dick’s still trying to convince Cassie it wasn’t her fault you ran.”

“It was nobody’s fault.” Tim corrects her, and his fingers unconsciously caress the creature’s ears. “Nobody knew about the silver trap. It shouldn’t be there, that’s why Bruce’s so angry.”

“It doesn’t give him a reason to treat us like fools, though.”

Damian tries to ignore their talk ― and sit further away from Stephanie, thank you very much ―, and Talia sits next to him, her hands still petting his head, like she needs to make sure he’s next to her, that he’s not going anywhere. Jason pushes Stephanie playfully to the other side so he can be next to them, and she threatens to bite him before finally moving; it’s Tim the one to smile this time, amusement glowing in his eyes. Damian rolls his eyes and cautiously reaches the creature’s fur, his fingers touching the small body and shaking with excitement.

“Can we keep him?” although the question seems to startle the other three wolves, when he looks at Talia, she doesn’t seem to find it so impossible, and, after a moment or two considering it, she ends up nodding.

“Sure. I don’t see why not.”

“You mean, like, excluding everything Bruce said to us about it?” Jason’s smile is almost too big to be real, like he’s gaining some kind of prize.

“I can talk to him later.”

Jason makes a small victory celebration with something along the lines of ‘ _Terry owes me ten bucks!_ ’, Stephanie whines again with ‘ _He’s going to kill us_ ’, and Tim’s all about trying to make them shut up to not wake up the new family member. Damian takes Talia’s hand between his and kisses her fingers in gratitude for her decision.

She watches him fondly, caressing his face before returning her attention to the animal who’s showing signs of waking up. Both mother and son take a moment to stare at it ― ignoring Jason and Stephanie starting a pillow fight over some childish argument while Tim tries to stop them without startling the ball of fur.

“Do you know what’s going to be his name?”

Damian watches the creature stretching and yawning, those immense yellow eyes blinking slowly and sleepy, and smiles to his mother.

“I’ll call him Goliath.”

**III**

The older he gets, the worse it is.

Damian’s been feeling sick for a week in a row now, and he knows it has nothing to do with the flu ― it’s something that goes deeper, crawling under his skin, pleading for release, craving for freedom. _mother notices it, she always does_. But they don’t talk about it. It’s not like she’d be able to help him, anyway, because Talia’s constantly reminding him that, as his father, Bruce’s the one who’ll have to give him a hand through his first moon cycle. He’s getting restless.

Does Father think of him as an unworthy wolf? Does he want a new heir? Damian refuses to give up on his path. Did Father forgot? Damian doubts. When it’s not Talia reminding Bruce of how careless he’s being with his parenthood, the other wolves in the pack do it by trying and teaching him new things ― how to recognize traces of a prey, how to cover his own traces, training his human body to keep in check with his wolf form. It’s not as useful as it’d be if he could already transform, but Damian’s trying.

 _trying’s not good enough._ Mother’s always relentless when she fights with him, when she teaches him. Terry’s too used to be alone, even by now, to try and help him with good advices ― not that Damian cares. Dick gets overexcited every time they go to the gym, somehow ending up talking about the circus and wasting more time making him train his flexibility than anything else. Stephanie, Tim and Jason are the most useful of them when it comes to follow Damian’s limits (not that he’ll _ever_ admit it, though), because Barbara’s always finding some poor excuse to be far away when they’re training, Kate has good eyes to point out what he’s doing wrong, and Cassandra’s knowledge will be helpful only when he can understand how’s to run around with paws instead of feet.

It doesn’t stop him from keep with the training; Alfred’s worried eyes don’t stop him, Bruce’s arched eyebrows, Talia’s stern gaze. Damian knows, deep in his guts, that he can do it. It’s in his blood, in his DNA ― he’s the _heir_ to his father’s domain, he’s supposed to follow his steps and take control over one of the oldest Gotham’s pack, to make his reign known amongst the wolf comunity.

But _how the hell_ he’s supposed to do it when he can barely handle any of the wolves in his own pack for more than a minute or two? It’s the fifth time that Tim has Damian knocked down, a ring buzzing his ears, and Drake’s not even _one of their best fighters_ ― he’s one of the fastest, sure, but nothing else, and it hurts Damian’s pride to be pinned down without so much effort; he saw Tim training with Stephanie, he saw how they can be, and he can’t quite grasp the concept about what’s so different when they’re fighting with him.

“You’re getting reckless.” Kate points out when he ignores Tim’s hand and sits on his own, and Damian glares at her. “Moving without thinking won’t lead you anywhere, kid.”

He cleans the blood on his lips, breathing heavily, trying to recover from the fall. Knowing that she’s saying the truth doesn’t make things better ― it makes him want to punch something. Mother’s always telling him to control his temper, to let it all go only when the chance’s the best, but Damian can’t. He doesn’t know why, but he can’t; and he’s getting tired of seeing people being disappointed on him for it.

“The practice is over.” ignoring the confusion that shows off in Tim’s eyes and the way Kate furrows her eyerbrows, Damian stands and rubs his hands on a sore spot in his ribs.

“But Talia –”

“I said it’s over!”

Tim takes a step back at his wrath, and Damian scowls before running to his room ― the ' _What a spoilt child_ ’ coming from Kate echoing through his brain like a bad music in the radio. Damian doesn’t need her help, he doesn’t need the help of any of them; if Father wants him to be a good heir, a good wolf, Damian needs to find a way to reach his hopes, to be what Father wants him to be.

_he’s gotta make it on his own._

**.**

Damian’s lying on his bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. Goliath’s with him, curled around his body like the warmest blanket, making small, content noises while the boy scratches his neck cautiously. Sometimes Damian wishes he could be like Goliath, free to come and go whenever he wants, without a care in the world about what’s happening around him and why. Talia told him about the creature’s species, about the myth surrounding it, the slaughter that happened and how everyone believed they were extinct. And, as much as the thought of Goliath being alone in the world makes him sad, Damian can’t help but feel happy to keep him.

What if it was another wolf who found the trap? What if Bruce hadn’t let him stay with Goliath and instead had given him away to the Council? Damian shudders and holds Goliath closer, not caring about the fact that the creature’s bigger, heavier, and he can barely breath when it settles its head on his chest. Damian may not know how’s to be one of the last survivors of an entire species, but he sure as hell knows how’s to be alone, and he doesn’t want Goliath to feel like this.

“You’re lucky.” he murmurs, hearing someone’s steps heading to his room. Goliath’s curious eyes stare at him quietly. “At least you don’t have to wait to be yourself.”

He doesn’t have time not even to sit before Talia’s entering the room, her eyes sharp, her features stern. But in the exactly moment she spots Damian all curled up with Goliath, the tension leaves her body. Mother and son stare at each other for a long moment before she sighs and approaches slowly. Goliath keeps looking at her, even when the boy gives up and returns his gaze to the ceiling, and sniffles when Talia sits on the board of the bed, like he’s deciding if she’s dangerous or not ― deciding if she’s a threat to his keeper. And Damian can’t help but caress him again, deep touched by his loyalty. Goliath’s more than he could ever ask for.

“Tim told me you didn’t want to keep training.” Talia starts playing with Damian’s hair, careful not to touch the bruises in his scalp from earlier falls. “Did something happen?”

Damian doesn’t answer at first; he thinks about a reason he can tell her without sounding too childish, but nothing comes to his mind. Damian may be able to lie to the rest of the pack, but he can’t lie to his mother. He takes a moment to himself, remembering how the others are always willing to help him, even when he doesn’t want help. Even Barbara ― not as a wolf, but giving him advices about school and technology, it doesn’t matter how much Damian tries to make her go away, it doesn’t matter how hard he tries to show her he doesn’t need any help. He never _asked_ for them to, he never _needed_ to ask. And even then, Bruce almost never shows up, too busy with his work on WE during the day and too busy taking care of Gotham by night; as his heir, Damian tries to keep it cool, to don’t take it personally, knowing that one day it’ll be him out there. But how the hell he’s supposed to learn when Bruce refuses to teach him? Damian doesn’t mean to sound like the spoilt child everyone seems to believe he is, not to his mother, but ― to him ― that’s exactly what happens.

“Why does Father not love me?”

Talia immediately stiffens, her hands freezing. Damian looks away, feeling like her reaction is just some kind of confirmation about all the other unmade questions. He refuses to acknowledge how tight his chest feels, how hard it’s to breath, because he’s not weak. He doesn’t need someone to tell him everything’s going to be alright, he doesn’t need people trying to help him. Damian can do it alone, he _knows_ that he can. He just needs time ― time to prove himself worthy, time to make Father love him. He needs to know what he’s doing wrong so he can fix it and be the heir that Bruce hoped for ― be the wolf he should’ve been since the start of it all.

Sensing his distress, Goliath licks Damian’s fingers and makes a low, guttural sound, like he’s calling the boy. Damian answers by scratching the creature’s neck and ears, but, when he moves in bed to look at Talia and ask her to forget it ― because it was a silly question, really ―, she’s the last thing he sees.

Because _Bruce_ ’s at the door, staring at both of them with a blank face, leaning to the door frame like he’s there since Talia entered the room. Damian tenses up, his eyes widening.

[ _he didn’t hear him coming. he didn’t hear him at all._ ]

Talia turns to Bruce with her features cold as hell.

“ _You._ ” her voice cracks when she stands. “How _could_ you?! He’s not – he’s – he’s your _son_ , you selfish prick! He’s _my_ son! _How could you?!_ ”

Damian flinches at the pain in her voice, and Goliath’s holding him so tight that his claws are actually hurting his ribs. The boy struggles against his hold, too worried about the way his mother’s shaking to care about it.

[ _she’s hurting. he knows she’s hurting._ ]

“Goliath, stop.” he demands, his tone stern, and the creature howls mournfully, like he’s the one being held and not the other way around. “Stop!”

Goliath howls once more, but lets him. Damian immediately gets out of the bed and steps closer to Talia, carefully reaching her out. She reacts fast, turning her back to Bruce and kneeling, bringing the boy against her chest. Damian doesn’t try to resist, letting her free to hug him as tight as she wishes. Talia’s shaking, all her body trembling with her rage, and she surrounds him like she won’t ever let him go again. Damian hugs her back rather awkwardly, confused. He doesn’t know why she’s so upset over it, and he certainly doesn’t know why Father’s not doing anything to make her feel better.

“I’m going to take him to the League.” Talia looks over her shoulder, and Damian doesn’t need to see her to know that she’s giving Bruce another cold glare. “You won’t ever – _ever_ – hurt my son again.”

He doesn’t like how it sounds.

[ _Mother’s lying, but it sounds so pained and desperate_ ― it hurts]

He’s not sure if it means that she won’t take him away, though, and Damian feels a little uneasy about it. He doesn’t want to go away. He doesn’t want to leave his pack, he doesn’t want to leave home. When his father carefully steps closer, the boy feels like he thinks the same way, and even more when he keeps approaching, apparently ignoring the way Talia shifts and growls at him. Damian unconsciously shrinks, not wanting to see them fighting over something like this.

“Talia…”

“Don’t go ‘ _Talia_ ’ on me! He thinks you hate him!”

“I don’t.” Bruce kneels next to them, cautiously reaching for them, surrounding mother and son with his arms, bringing them close. “I love you. I love you _both_.”

[ _he’s telling the truth_ ― Damian doesn’t have any idea of how he knows it, but he does]

He lays his head on Father’s chest, somehow surprised about how calm is his heartbeat, when Mother’s so desperate. Bruce rubs Damian’s back in a comforting way while pressing fast, light kisses all over Talia’s face. Slowly, she starts relacing, softening the grip around Damian’s body, breathing deeply to calm herself down. Bruce hums in contentment, resting his chin against Talia’s head, and Damian closes his eyes, surrounded by warmth and care.

Soon enough, Goliath decides to join them, somehow finding a way to creep between them and curl around Damian’s lap, sounding happy and way too comfortable to leave anytime soon.

Talia’s the first one to show a shadow of a smile ― weak, almost hollow, but a smile nonetheless ―, and Bruce’s the last, with only a barely move of his lips. Damian doesn’t mind, not at all.

That’s family.

_that’s where he’s supposed to be._

**.**

That night, Bruce finally decides to talk with Damian about the pack dynamics. After the dinner, he calls his son and takes him out ― Talia follows them with worried eyes, Dick’s practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. Goliath makes a move to go after them, but the boy tells him to stay; not because he doesn’t want him to go, but because he’s not sure that Father would appreciate that, and he doesn’t want to take the risk of upsetting him and making him change his mind.

Damian scratches his neck, trying to free himself from the feeling that crawls under his skin, and watches his surroundings curiously while Bruce leads him to the central garden and out in the forest. The boy frowns and looks back at the Manor for a moment before following him. He’s not a coward, and, in any way, there’s nothing to fear. Father won’t hurt him, Damian knows it, they’re bonded with so much more than a pack, he knows that Father wouldn’t ever hurt him ― because Bruce may not love him, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re father and son, it doesn’t change the fact that Damian’s his heir.

“Did Talia tell you about the moon?” the silence’s suddenly broken when Bruce turns to look at him, and Damian immediately stops walking. “The lunar cycle, how the wolf affects the way you see the world?”

The way he talks about it makes the younger shift uncomfortably, not knowing if it’s a good thing to be completely unsure about what Father’s talking. In doubt, he decides to tell the truth; there’s no reason to hide anything, considering how much he still needs to learn about being a wolf and being part of a pack. So, he ends up shaking his head quietly.

“Mother told me you should be the one to explain.”

He doesn’t know exactly what he was waiting to happen, but receiving a smile from Bruce’s certainly not what he thought. It makes him feel a little bit ashamed, like his father’s smile ― when directed towards something his mother did ― shouldn’t be something he can see. It feels too intimate, a moment to be shared with Talia instead of him.

“She was right.” when Bruce sits, he doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the mud that will eventually cover his clothes. “Come here, Damian, sit with me.”

Damian blinks, confused, but follows the command. He sits at his father’s side, eyes fixed on him, features twisted in concentration, ready to learn everything he can. Bruce doesn’t look at him, staring at the sky instead. They keep the silence for what feels like hours to the boy, and he eventually gives up on waiting. Damian bites the inside of his mouth and looks away quickly. _it’s too quiet, too quiet._ The silence’s a dull buzzing inside his brain, annoying, hurting his senses mercilessly. He shudders and immediately Bruce rests a hand on his knee. Damian takes in a sharp breath, forcing his fingernails against his own palms. It helps him to concentrate, to focus.

“Look at the moon, Damian.”

He does it.

[ _cold, shinning like silver burning in the sky, calling him_ ― it burns inside his blood, crawling under his skin, howling, howling, fighting for freedom. _he shivers._ Bruce’s fingers start tracing patterns on his knee in a comforting way, calling the boy back to reality, keeping him there]

“The myth about us isn’t wrong when it says the moon’s our source of energy. It’s in your blood, Damian, from both ways. It comes from Wayne and it comes from al Ghul. You’re surrounded by its need, the wolf inside you crave for its power.” Bruce looks at him, but Damian keeps staring at the moon. “You’re supposed to learn how to control it; there’s just so much we can do to help, but the greatest effort is yours. Tell me, Damian, what can you hear?”

“The wind. And there’s – there’s a river. I hear your heartbeat.”

“Don’t you hear the wolf?”

There’s something wrong in Bruce’s voice ― a tone that Damian can’t quite figure out. Immediately, he closes his eyes, trying harder. It’s a bit overwhelming, because then he needs to concentrate in the sounds around him more than the rest, and it all goes right through his skull. _he doesn’t know what Father is talking about_. There’s not a wolf anywhere around, he would’ve heard it by now.

But then, just when he’s about to say it for Bruce, Damian notices it: the low, rhytmical sound reverbating through his bones. It’s quiet, almost too quiet for him to hear, but he does. The boy can’t help but smile, caught by surprise at how excited it makes him.

“I can feel it.”

“But do you hear?”

“I do.”

Damian’s not lying. It drums inside his chest like a tempest in the city, pouring down his body with energy. _he’s feeling so powerful he thinks he might explode._ Bruce’s grip on his knee is stronger, keeping him anchored in reality, so he knows he’s not supposed to let it take control over him. It’s harder to open his eyes but Damian manages to make it, breathing heavily. _the howling inside him is louder now_ ― warmer, and good, like curling up around Goliath in a cold day. He’s shaking, but it’s worth it, the look on Bruce’s face makes it worth.

“Until dawn you’ll be a wolf.” he says, his voice solemn, like he’s making a promise. “Until then, I’ll teach you what to do.”

Damian nods. He’s excited, but a little bit anxious too ― he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to be a disappointment, not to his mother, not to his father, not to his pack. He needs to be strong, and he needs to be good. _he’s not scared, he’s just… being curious._ And if his eyes are a little wider or his fists are closed tight, Bruce doesn’t talk about it; Damian won’t ever admit how grateful he is for it.

“Father?”

“Yes, Damian?”

“Will it hurt?”

Silence. The boy almost regrets asking ― _almost._ Bruce ruffs his hair, and Damian’s shoulders relax a little, even when his lips are pressed together in a thin line.

“I won’t lie to you: it’s difficult in the beginning; but I’ll be there for you as long as you need me. Your mother and your brothers too. It gets easier with time.”

Damian nods once again. Although part of his mind says he shouldn’t, he doesn’t feel upset about knowing that he’ll be in pain while transforming; he feels glad that Father trusts him enough to tell him the truth, he’s glad that he’s being trusted to keep that in mind without freaking out.

_the wolf trusts his father._

Damian does it too.

**IV**

Damian’s almost nine when Talia lets him go to his first school trip. He wasn’t so interested about going to the circus at first ― why he should pay for something so useless? ―, but then Dick started talking about his time travelling around with his family (what he could remember from it, considering that he was barely five when Bruce adopted him) and he got curious. Is it true that there are people who can breath fire and swallow knives? That’s exactly what caught his attention and made him ask his mother to go.

But he regrets it now. _he forgot about the noise. he forgot about the people._ It’s already hard enough to keep focused inside the school, when his classmates don’t seem able to shut up, he doesn’t even try to hear while the teachers divide the classes to sit and be watched. He ends up paired with Colin Wilkes, what’s not something so bad ― it’s been a long time since people stopped trying to gain his affection, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try to start senseless talk sometimes; Colin’s probably the only one who never tried to, and it makes things easier. The boy seems almost as uncomfortable as him, and that’s new.

Colin’s not a very talkative person, but he’s not quiet either. He likes to talk, even when there’s no one to hear him. Damian’s not worried, although it gives him a strange feeling in the guts. When the boy changes his weigh from a foot to another, the redhead looks at him curiously. Damian crosses his arms, using the fact that he’s a bit too tall for his age to look intimidating; while Colin has roundy cheeks and too many freckles that make him seem a child, Damian’s a mix between someone who grew up way too fast, but, yet, has eyes too wide to be considered older.

“You ok?” Colin asks quietly, coming closer to avoid calling attention from the others. “You’re pale.”

Damian’s grateful that he’s not being loud, but it doesn’t change how offended he feels. He scowls, his eyes sharp, ready to retaliate ― he’s a _wolf_ , of course he’s ok ―, but Colin beats him at it.

“It’s because of the clowns?”

Damian immediately stops, blinking confusedly. Colin takes it as a yes, and looks solemnly at him.

“Don’t worry, they scare me too.” Wilkes shrugs. “I guess if they come too close, we can always call a teacher or, I don’t know, someone.”

The Wayne heir takes a moment to only stare at him, not being able to believe in what he’s hearing. _he’s not scared._ What the hell Colin is talking about? Sure, Dick told him about the clowns, but he was so thrilled about the whole firebreather thing he didn’t hear a word. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and takes a moment to look around. There’s nothing wrong with the place, saving a few people who stare at the students with frowns, because they’re making too much noise.

“I’m not scared.”

Colin stares at him like Damian’s going out of his mind, but, instead of trying to say something about it, the boy shrugs once again, looking away.

“If you say so.”

Damian scowls again, crossing his arms tight. He feels seriously offended. _he’s a wolf. he does not fear._ _he doesn’t need to._ But Colin doesn’t seem to be doing it on purpose; he doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he made the Wayne heir with something so simple. Damian decides it’s not worth trying to argue with him ― muttering again under his breath an angry _‘I’m not scared_ ’ before all the lights go out.

And, if Damian stiffens or tenses up more visibly while the show goes on and a maniacal laughter approaches, Colin doesn’t say a thing.

**.**

Damian doesn’t know how, but both him and Colin end up lost between the trailers and many other things around the show’s tent. Sure, he could lead them both to their teacher with closed eyes by now, but he’s not in the mood to be lectured about following orders and never getting out of sight of an adult ― it’s not his fault if they’re all lazy and don’t seem able to look after half dozen children at time. Even then, he doesn’t want to receive a report for being bad, because Talia would be _very_ disappointed on his behavior and Bruce would probably get mad at him for being so irresponsible.

“We shall go back.” he murmurs, more to himself than for Colin. “We’ll get in trouble, Wilkes.”

Colin looks at him and frowns.

“Who the hell says ‘ _We shall_ ’, Damian?” he sighs. “ _We shall_ nothing, okay? I want to see the lion. You can go find the others if you want to.”

 _he’s stupid._ Part of Damian wants to bite him ― punch him ― and the other part wants to slap himself in the face. What was he thinking, following the boy around? That Colin needs to be protected, that he’ll hear him? Damian clenches his fists, scowling at the redhead’s back, angry at himself for being so idiot to the point of believing that he could ― and _should_ ― do something for the boy. He’s ready to turn his back to Colin and walk away when a sound crosses his skull in a dull burning pain, and all his body tenses up.

[ _it’s a laugh_ ― _loud, terrifying laugh that sents a shiver down his spine_ ]

“Damnit.” Damian curses under his breath, and, when Colin turns to tell him to shut up, he tackles the boy to the ground.

“Hey! What are you –”

They both have a hard time in a mess of tangled bodies, but Damian _is_ a wolf (a wolf with too many siblings to his own liking, thank you very much), and he ends up winning the small fight, holding Colin down with all the strenght he can without hurting him ― a care he wouldn’t need to take if he was with his brothers. Still, Colin gives him a pained look when he stops fighting, his body suddenly limp, but Damian doesn’t try to think too much about it, instead deciding to focus in grabbing him and hiding against a colorful box. The redhead stays quiet for a moment, and then, when the Wayne starts to relax ― thinking that he understood his urgency ―, he sinks his teeth against the boy’s hand.

Damian’s caught by surprise, yelping and almost hitting Colin in the face. The redhead uses it as his favor to free himself, practically falling to the floor to get away from the other boy. He’s already crawling backwards, escaping from the reach of the Damian’s hands when both of the hear the sound of approaching steps. Colin freezes, and Damian’s eyes are wide as the moon.

“He lied to me! He lied, he lied!”

Colin moves slowly, not doing a sound, and Damian doesn’t try to push him away when the boy leans against him. Actually, he pulls the boy closer, arms surrounding him in a protective way, and the redhead shrinks. They stay quiet for a moment, eyes wide, barely breathing and listening carefully to anything that can put them in trouble for sneaking around.

“We can make him pay fer it, Mistah Jay, we can!”

“Shut up!” the wrath in the man’s voice makes Damian’s breath get caught in his troath. “I decide what we do!”

There’s a strange sound that the Wayne heir can’t recognize, an estrangled yelp, and Colin tenses up, all his body suddenly frozen. Damian closes his eyes when he hears a muffled whimper, feeling sick, the boy in his arms forcing nails against his hands with force enough to hurt. For a few seconds there’s only silence, and then a loud laugh echoes through the tent.

[ _Damian’s wolf crawls under his skin and howls, wanting to get out_ ― it’s too dangerous to his human self, he needs the animal ― _, and he needs to resist the urge to follow his instincts and transform_ ]

“He’ll regret lying to me!”

Colin hides his face against Damian’s shoulder, and so they stay for a long time ― too long, both of them as quiet as they can, holding on to each other with caution, trying to be as small as possible. The Wayne heir tries to do to the boy the same thing his parents do when they think he needs: he rubs Colin’s back comfortingly while resisting the need to hum some Arabic lullaby.

[and then ― _silence, crawling, burning, burning, echoing inside him; inside them_ ]

“We should get outta here.”

Damian looks at him and blinks. Colin immediately takes a defensive posture, his features hardening, getting away from him. Damian doesn’t even try to hold the boy, a little astonished to react in time to avoid receiving a pair of pained eyes staring at him wildly.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“You wanted to see the lion.” Damian furrows his eyebrows together. “We shall see the lion.”

Colin is taken by surprise, features twisting in confusion, face losing all the anger. _Damian doesn’t understand him._ They stare at each other in complete astonishment until the moment the black-haired boy rolls his eyes.

“-tt-” he stands, patting his knees to clean his clothes. “We can try and find the others if you changed your mind, Wilkes.”

The redhead frowns, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Damian doesn’t try to focus on him, trying to find the lion’s heartbeat instead. Colin’s clearly doubting him, almost doing as much as _pout_ , only to show that he’s not happy about it ― believing that the other boy will only joke with his wish.

“You don’t need to go!” Wilkes crosses his arms tight against his chest. “I don’t need you!”

Damian ignores him, turning his back to the patch the clowns followed.

“C’mon, we shall go before someone notice we’re gone.”

Colin scrunches up his nose.

“I can find the way by myself.”

Damian almost _snorts_. If Colin knew, they wouldn’t be lost _far away_ from the feline.

“Shut up, Wilkes. You want to see the lion or not?”

Colin’s pout deepens. He looks away fast, a blush creeping through his cheeks and turning his ears a deep shade of red. Damian finds it a little bit curious ― Jason’s _exactly_ like this, depending on how angry or how ashamed he is. He guesses about why Colin’s so uncomfortable about him wanting to help. _he may not be a good classmate_ ― _or a good person, for all that matters_ ― _, but he’s not a monster either._ He won’t hurt him, or play with him.

“I want to.” Colin says grumpily, his arms still crossed, his eyes glued to the ground.

Damian doesn’t even think about teasing him for showing weakness, at least not in the way he would with any member of his pack. He only nods solemnly.

“Then we shall go.”

It’s the first time that Colin looks at him without showing any sign of anger or bitterness. Damian decides he likes him better like this ― because his defensive attitude towards the world remembers the Wayne heir way too much about Bruce’s fights with Jason ― until the moment Colin’s confused and grateful eyes get lost in a devilish grin.

“Only when you stop talking like an old man.”

Damian immediately scowls.

“I’m gonna leave you here.” he threatens.

Colin’s laugh echoes through his brain and bones in a whole different way.

[ _it tastes like summer_ ― _warm and strong and_ **_aching_** ]

**.**

“Hey, little D!” Dick’s smile is bright as the sun, and he doesn’t give Damian time to react before hugging hm in a bone-crushing way. “I’ve missed you, buddy!”

The younger boy squirms and tries to make him back off, but he’s still not strong enough to do it, and ends up only being smashed against Dick with more force. He can practically _hear_ Colin’s smile on his back, and it makes him want to shove the older away. It’s strange to have him back, because in the last weeks Dick was very busy with Blüdhaven and almost didn’t show up; Damian missed him too, but it’s not like he’s going to say it out loud.

“Where’s Father?” he asks, voice muffled against Grayson’s chest. “Mother said he was going to be the one to pick me up.”

Damian doesn’t miss the way Dick’s body tenses up ― even the slightest move of his arms, tightening around him like the older’s going to catch him and run to protect them from the world ―, and his mind is immediately put into alert. _since the day Bruce helped him with his first transformation, they’ve been a lot more close, but even then he fails at some father duties like not showing up at time to school presentations, forgetting Damian’s violin classes and taking him to the forest instead, missing his appointments with doctors because someone got out of jail._ Talia’s always the one to do everything in her power to make him keep his word, and she succeds every time, because Bruce’s really starting to get better at this; what means that, if Dick’s here, something wrong happened and Bruce was needed somewhere else.

“Bussiness trip.” the older boy finally lets him go, his smile a bit more reassuring. “Don’t worry, little D. Kate and Terry are with him.”

The Wayne heir lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and that’s the exactly moment Dick spots Colin ― who watches them curiously.

“Hey!” his smile returns with full force. “I didn’t notice you there! Who are you, a friend of D?”

“Wilkes.” Damian answers before Colin can even open his mouth. “We were paired up together to watch the show. Wilkes, this is Grayson.”

Dick and Colin stare at each other for an awkward moment, and then the older boy seems to decide that he’s not gonna let the Wayne heir have a moment of peace in his life.

“So, you guys had fun?”

“We –”

“The circus is awesome!” Colin interrupts the other boy with a smile way too sweet for him to be planning on doing something good with it. “Damian is scared of clowns, though, so we lost a part of the show because he needed a break.”

Damian’s too shocked ― caught by surprise by the boy’s audacy ― to react in time to avoid the iminent disaster.

“What?!” Dick’s eyes widen in horror. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“That’s a lie! I wasn’t scared.”

Colin’s smile is wide and the happiest Damian’s ever seen before ― but it kind of loses its meaning with his joke. It gets worse when Dick picks him up to hug him.

“I’m sorry, Damian, I’m sorry! You should’ve told me!”

“I wasn’t scared!” the Wayne heir fights to get free. “I demand you to put me down, Grayson!”

But Dick’s too far gone to hear him, babbling about how sorry he is and how he’ll find a way to make it up to Damian. The boy only stares, not able to make the older one let him go, all while Colin watches them with amused eyes. Damian doesn’t try to pull a face, because it’s strange to see him acting like this.

“We can go buy ice cream.” Damian’s turned to look at Dick’s pleading face. “I mean, if you want to. We can bring your friend with us!”

Colin’s face lights up at that, and Dick already knows he’s won. Damian scowls. _he’s not a good person, or a good classmate, but still…_

“Only if I can choose the flavor.”

Dick’s whole face softens into a smile, and Damian refuses to stop looking angrily at him until he takes Colin’s hand with his free one, not bothering to put his younger brother down.

“Whatever you want, little D, whatever you want.”

**V**

Talia always made sure that Damian knew about his grandfather, she always made sure that he’d be ready when the time to meet Ra’s came. But even then, afer all her effotrs, Damian’s knees feel a little weak while they walk through the forest. He’s been feeling uneasy since Terry freaked out and ran away, leaving the pack behind. It’s been harder than he thought it would, because everyone’s tense, waiting for something to go wrong. Talia’s arm is safely around Damian’s shoulders, Bruce’s hand on their backs, rubbing soothing circles, a strong presence to keep them calm. Kate’s at Talia’s right side, her shoulders tense, her eyes dark with the urge to snap and transform, sensing their distress; Dick’s at Bruce’s back, worried, only showing his tension by pressing his lips in a thin line; and Jason’s the only one who shows no signs of distress, but that’s because the anger that boils up inside him is enough to burn down everything else.

Damian doesn’t know why they’re so tense ― even Bruce’s features are hardened, his jaw clenched, his eyes cautious ―, he doesn’t know why they’re ready to fight or run, and it leaves him stressed. Talia’s the worst of them. Damian can’t take her eyes out of his mind ― the look she gave him this morning, after reading the letter her father sent her ―, he can’t forget what she said to Jason after talking with Bruce about the al Ghul’s arrival.

“If they come for us, you protect Damian, and Damian alone. You take him and you run, do you understand me?” he remembers the way her eyes glowed, telling all the things she couldn’t put into words: _you and Dick are the only ones that I’d trust enough to do this, but we need him there. You’re stronger, and I know you can protect him. Terry won’t come back to us, so you’ll need to take over and be the strong bond. Protect the pack. Protect my son._

Jason paled, but ended up nodding. Damian’s still fighting to get Talia’s haunted face out of his mind when the walk comes to a sudden end. He immediately tenses up, looking around to try and understand why they stopped. He doesn’t need to try too hard, considering that the ones who caused all of this ― his mother’s sister and father ― are right in front of them.

Nyssa’s exactly like Mother told him: young, with sharp eyes and a confident posture. She’s the first one to react at them, her lips twisting in a tiny smile, waving a hand gracefully. Ra’s, on the other hand, doesn’t seem that much of what Talia pictured him: the white stripes in his hair don’t give him an old appearence, his features are severe, eyes cold while staring at them, giving no sign that he’ll make a friendly move. Suddenly, Damian understands why his mother’s so tense while watching her father with wary eyes. It has nothing to do with safety. It has nothing to do with insecurity. His grandfather’s not here to fix the bond that was broken somewhere between Talia getting pregnant and Damian being born, he’s here to retaliate.

[ _and there’s too much for him to hear_ ― _too much_ ― _and he needs to count and recount as many times as he can because it can’t be, it can’t be_ ]

“What a shame we only find a way to meet when something threatens our deal, Mr. Wayne.”

His voice’s a bit rough, familiar, and Damian’s whole body tenses up. Talia tries to soothe him, but he can feel her fingers trembling almost unnoticeably, and it ends up making him feel more uncomfortable than before. It’s not even her fault, but Damian wishes he could stop it. He enlaces his fingers between hers, holding them tight to try and give her some sort of safety. It helps, and, after some seconds, Talia relaxes, squeezing his hand in return.

[ _there’s a thump-thump and a tap-tap and its coming closer and closer and he wants it to stop_ ]

“I must agree that it’s a shame we can’t meet this frequently.” Bruce takes a step in front of Talia and Damian, taking them out ot the direct danger line. Damian feels better with his father’s frame almost covering him whole, but doesn’t dare to show it up, instead choosing to keep a careful eye in the forest around them. “But, if I must say so, I can hardly understand why you would think there’s any threat to our deal, Mr. al Ghul.”

[ _it’s closer and closer ― and it’s not going to stop_ ]

“You know exactly why. You put my daughter and my grandson under the radar of hunters. It doesn’t quite follow our deal for you to take care of them.”

“You could’ve asked to come, father.” Talia says, and although she seems sure of what she’s talking about, there’s an edge in her voice, something that Damian’s never heard before, and he soon finds out he hates it with a burning passion. “Your letter almost sounded like a war warning.”

“Watch your mouth.” Nyssa interrupts her sister, her smile gone, a dangerous glow in her eyes. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

Talia retraits immediately, looking at her father for a moment before bowing her head in defeat. Damian doesn’t even think before scowling, not able to understand how someone _dares_ to talk with his mother like that. _the wolf inside him growls._ Dick’s tense as a rock, anger showing up in his eyes, and Kate has her fists clenched, her body shaking slightly, ready to let the wolf take over. Jason decides he’s had enough, taking a step in front of the group, almost pairing up with Bruce.

“She doesn’t owe you anything.” the next sentence sounds too close to a growl to be only a reminder, and Damian decides he likes Jason’s attitude towards his mother. “Talia’s in _our_ pack, and you’re in _our_ territory. _You_ can’t forget who you’re talking to.”

Nyssa’s caught off guard by his statement, by his anger, and Damian never felt so proud of having a hot-headed as his brother before. Talia’s his greatest example of a leader, and he won’t ever let anyone put that down. She watches them with careful eyes, specially Jason, and, rather than showing anger towards his somehow disrespectful act towards her father, she only seems bewildered. Ra’s watches them with a cold stare.

“ _Jason._ ” Bruce warns the boy, but his reprimand sounds only half-heartedly. The pack can practically _taste_ the satisfaction coming in waves from him. “That’s not how we treat guests in our lands.”

Todd scowls, but mutters a curse under his breath before backing off, effectively calming down everybody’s nerves by not showing more signs of threat to the head of the al Ghul’s pack. Kate gives both him and Bruce a respectful nod. The older mand turns his eyes to look at Nyssa, and she gives him a hateful glare, as if blaming him for having kids enough to protect Talia without anyone needing to demand them to.

“Although, I’d appreaciate if you didn’t refer to my mate like that in our city _ever_ again.”

Talia takes a moment to run her fingers through Damian’s hair, and he feels satisfied about it. It’s her way of saying that everything’s going to be okay, that he doesn’t need to worry about it. Damian may not say it not even _once_ , but he’s really grateful about the little acts of comfort.

“It doesn’t change the fact that you’re living amongst hunters.” Nyssa’s features twist in disgust. Damian can bet he’s not the only one already feeling Jason’s anger starting to boil up again. “Those bloody bastards will be the disgrce of your pack. You think you can trust them, Wayne? In the moment you turn your back on them, they’ll have your head in their hands.”

[ _it stops suddenly, waiting, waiting ― and it hits Damian with full force; he snaps his head so fast that a sickening crack sound echoes through his whole body_ ]

“Mother.” his throat feels dry and it hurts to talk, but his voice is surprisingly estable. “Ask Grandfather to demand his minion to get out of the forest. Kane won’t be late in tearing someone apart if they attack her from this distance, and I don’t want anybody dead. Yet.”

Immediately, the pack gets in a defensive position, Bruce finally covering Damian with his frame, blocking him from the world. They all have each other’s back, and Jason’s eyes tell that he’s ready to do what Talia told him to at any moment. Nyssa’s wide eyes stare at the spot where Damian had been not even a minute before, astonished, and Ra’s only cracks a smile. It’s not like Dick’s, or Colin’s, or even Talia’s smile; there’s nothing good to see in his eyes while he smiles.

“Cain, get out.”

For a moment, Damian freezes ― unable to relate the name to any other than Cassandra ―, and then, when a big wolf comes out of the woods, he can breath again. He knows it’s not _their_ Cain because she’s relatively small, even being one of their best fighters. He frowns while staring at the wolf, and Talia’s hand squeezes his shoulders so hard that it almost hurts. Bruce’s posture is a lot protective, his eyes are dangerous, almost feral.

“My grandchild seems to know exactly how the al Ghul work. Mind if I ask _why_ , considering that we were never invited to properly know him?”

“We do not intend to offend you, Mr. al Ghul.” Bruce’s jaw clenches. “We teach him what we think he needs to know.”

“You never showed any sign of wanting to meet him.” Talia’s voice is cold as steel, her shoulders rigid once more. “You could’ve called. You could’ve told us.”

There’s a sudden change in the atmosphere when Nyssa growls at her, showing her sharp teeth in a sign of threat to her sister. Damian’s only mildly taken back by her attitude.

“He thinks of us as a threat! You raised him to think of us as a threat!”

That’s not true. Damian knows that it’s not true. Talia told him about everything ― the good and the bad things. She always made sure to let him know everything he needed to know to create a picture by himself, and it’s unfair to say that she’s trying to make him hate his own family.

“That’s a very offensive thing for you to say, Mrs. Raatko. I’d like for you to remember that, as much as I respect and care deeply for your family, I won’t tolerate an accusation of this kind to be throwed at my pack, not in our own lands.”

The Cain wolf makes a sound that it’s almost a snort. Behind them, Dick growls, low and ready to retaliate. Bruce doesn’t take his eyes off Damian’s grandfather.

“If your worry is about the hunters, I guess there’s nothing to talk about. They’re not a threat to us, I can guarantee you that.”

Ra's seems caught off guard by how certain the wolf sounds, but that's only for a second, because a moment later Nyssa decides she doesn't want to hear nothing anymore.

“Bullshit!” her eyes burn with hatred and fury. Damian escapes Talia's hands to approach his father, to watch his aunt and try to understand why she's so enraged. Bruce stops him by putting a hand in his chest. “You all are going to die, my sister is going to die, just because you can't be a responsible alpha –”

“Enough!” Ra's interrupts Nyssa, frowning upon her attitude. “We're not here to fight.”

Damian swears he can hear Jason mumbling something along the lines of ' _Yeah? Tell this to your stupid minion_ ', but chooses to ignore him, keeping his eyes on his grandfather and aunt.

“What you're trying to say is that, if I go away and find a hunter in our way back home, they'll mean no threat to us?”

“Not in my lands.” Bruce touches Damian's shoulder, squeezing softly, reassuring.

They get quiet for a moment, and when Talia's hand caresses her son's hair, Damian knows that everything's going to be okay, at least for now.

“Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if we check it out.”

Jason's breath gets caught in his throat; Dick stiffens. Damian feels a wave of distress first, and then anger. _He knows it's about Roy. He knows the hunter means a lot to his older brothers ― and if they're bad enough when they're alone, they're even worse when they're together._ Bruce, of course, knows both of them too well for their liking, and can sense the disaster edging the meeting. Talia approaches Damian and puts her hands on his shoulders, above Bruce's.

“As long as you don't bring us any trouble, I don't see why not.”

“Then our meeting ends here.” Ra's looks at his daughter for the first time since the moment they met. “I guess we'll have to wait another time to meet as a family. I hope Damian doesn't forget who he's related to.”

“We'll make sure he doesn't.”

Bruce's voice doesn't leave room for doubts. Ra's looks at Damian, who nods respectfully at him, and then turns to leave. The more he disappears inside the forest ― Nyssa and Cain right on his wheels ―, the more Talia tightens the grip on the boy's shoulders. It takes almost six whole minutes for the tension to finally explode. Bruce turns to look at his pack, eyes wide and feral.

“Kate, find Stephanie and Cassandra, lead them in search for Harper. Tell Tim to call Barbara, I don't want anyone alone now. Dick, Jason, you go with Damian back to the Manor. _Don't_ leave home, it doesn't matter what happens.”

The woman's the first one to react, moving her head in agreement and running to the forest, the sound of her bones cracking and changing echoing with a loud howl. Dick's the first to approach, and Damian follows him without struggling because Talia told him that there are times to rebel and times to obey ― and he knows that now it's not time to fight over his right to do what he wants to do.

“But what about you and Talia?” Dick's clearly worried, his eyes darting between his adoptive father and mother, holding Damian against himself.

The boy notices how Bruce's features harden and how Talia's shoulders straighten. He decides he doesn't like it ― he _definitely_ doesn't like it.

“We're going to watch the city tonight.”

Jason takes in a sharp breath. Dick closes his eyes for a moment. Damian doesn't know what it means, but it can't be any good. He immediately looks at Talia, eyes wide, hands gripping Grayson's clothes between his fingers with all the strenght he can. She notices it, and approaches to give a peck in his forehead, holding him still for a moment.

“Obey your brothers while we're out, Damian.” when walking backwards, Talia gives him a look so odd it sents a shiver down his body. “Don't transform until we come back. We don't need anyone from the League to rastreate you and bring us to a war.”

Damian knows he should nod and tell her not to worry, tell her that he won't disappoint her or Father, but can't bring himself to do it properly. His vision's a little blurry and that's a strange sensation, his chest feels heavy with the need to ask her to stay with him, to send Grayson in her place. But he knows it'll make her upset, so he only nods, and that's when Talia decides she needs to go; she looks at him, frozen in his brother's arms, and turns to leave. Bruce stares at them for a moment, barely a second, and seems to have something important to say, but all it comes from his mouth is:

“You need to go.”

Dick doesn't waste more time in picking up Damian; who, once more, doesn't struggle.

[ _inside him the wolf howls mournfully_ ]

**.**

It’s almost two in the morning when Mother and Father finally return home.

Damian’s lying his head on Dick’s lap, the elder boy’s fingers running through his hair in a comforting pace. Jason’s with Roy, sitting in front of the fireplace, murmuring in a low tone under the strong gaze of Kate, who watches them with her arms crossed, jaw tense. Barbara’s on the couch, both Tim and Stephanie curled around her, and her protective arms are around their shoulders. Cassandra’s the only one apparently relaxed, sprawled on the carpet, humming to herself that sounds suspiciously like the Fifth Symphony ― if he wasn’t so exhausted, Damian would be proud of her for the choice.

He’s trying to let himself get lost in he melody, his eyes already half-closed, when Alfred steps inside the room. He smells like antiseptic and alcohol, and Damian stiffens. Dick immediately gets tense. Cassandra stops humming.

“Master Bruce and Mistress Talia returned home safely. They request all of you to go rest, it’s been a long day and you all will need to wake up early.” he turns to stare at Jason and Roy, who tenses up slightly. The butler’s face doesn’t change, stoic as ever. “You’re invited to stay the night, Master Harper, but I may warn you, young sir, that you’re not allowed to be alone anywhere inside the Manor. We all would like to avoid misunderstandings.”

Roy nods, his features softening, and Jason elbows him playfully. Dick smiles at them, and Kate’s shoulders relax. Barbara starts murmuring to Tim and Stephanie, trying to wake them up as gently as possible, to avoid passing them the wrong idea. Cassandra seems fairly happy only closing her eyes again, starting to hum for herself once more.

Damian doesn’t feel relieved, though. He wants to make sure that Mother and Father are _really_ okay.

“You should go sleep, little D.” Dick runs a hand through the boy’s hair, soothing him, his fingers warm and careful. Damian pretends he doesn’t like it and sits, rubbing his eyes to fight off sleep. “They’ll be there when you wake up.”

“I want to see them now.”

Jason cringes at his stubborness, but Dick barely blinks.

“They must be tired, Damian. Let them rest.”

He doesn’t want to sleep without seeing his parents, but he’s not in a good state of mind to argue either. He’s exhausted, he’s sleepy and he’s starting to get angry. Damian grits his teeth, because he’s not above making a scene to get what he wants ― and Dick should know better than that.

“Let the kid see his parents.” Kate steps in to Damian’s rescue, and although he’s not a kid, he feels glad that at least someone’s at his side. “Tired or not, you can’t make me believe that Talia won’t feel ten times better with her pup.”

“She’s right.” Barbara mutters, failing to free herself from Tim and Stephanie’s grip. Dick gives her a defeated look, and Damian’s triumphant. He knows that nobody will try to argue with Gordon ― not even Jason. “I know that you’re just trying to make things better, but I think now it’s not the right time.”

“Ok, ok, I got it.” he sighs, and then messes Damian’s hair, giving him a small smile. “You want me to go with you, little D?”

Damian shakes his head, not because he doesn’t think that Dick _means_ to be a good brother, but because he wants a moment to be alone to think about the whole day. He _needs_ a moment to himself, otherwise he’ll end up exploding ― and he’s fine with his control exactly the way it is, thank you very much.

“Then goodnight.” Dick ignores the death glare he receives from the boy and gives him a peck on the forehead. “Sleep well.”

Damian scowls at him ― receiving a lovingly smile from Barbara and a happy laugh from Grayson in return ―, but mumbles ‘ _Goodnight_ ’ before exiting himself out of the room. Alfred gives him a pat on the shoulder, and if it wasn’t too much madness even for him, Damian would be able to swear that there’s a glint of pride in the butler’s eyes.

It’s a fast walk. When he was younger, Damian used to get lost a lot when wandering around the Manor ― what caused Talia forbidding anyone to play hide and seek with him until he was at least eight ―, but, by now, he knows it like the palm of his hand. It makes him think about all the time Mother wastes worrying about him; it makes him remember how she’s always careful, and sometimes even paranoid while trying to take care of him. Now he knows it has something to do with her blood family, he knows it has something to do with the al Ghuls ― he doesn’t know what, and he’s not sure he wants to.

And it’s not like Damian hates his grandfather ― or his aunt, for all that matters ―, but he’s not that far from it either. It’s hard to think of them as any less of what Mother told him, and it’s even harder to dissociate what she told from what he saw. Damian was raised to be the leader of his own pack one day, he knows how _disrespectful_ is to show up at someone’s lands without nothing but a letter in the day of the meeting; he noticed all the passive-agressive arguments being thrown from pack to pack. He didn’t try to read the letter Grandfather has sent, but only because Talia made sure to burn the entire thing to ashes right after she showed it to Bruce, and something in his guts tells him it was a letter related to him ― because Talia wouldn’t be so tense, desperate to the point of asking Jason to grab Damian and run, unless she knew that something very wrong was bound to happen.

The thought makes him stop dead in tracks, the blood suddenly running cold in his veins.

If they fought, someone probably got hurt. What if it was Mother? What if it was _Father_? Sure, Alfred said that they returned home safely, he didn’t say that they’re completely fine. And to think about his parents being hurt or worse makes him feel nauseated, his stomach churning in complete agony. Damian stumbles on his feet, his breath caught in his throat. _it feels wrong. it feels so,_ **_so wrong_** _. he wants Mother. he wants Father. he wants them_ **_now_** _._

Before he can properly think about it, Damian rushes to his parent’s room, not bothering to knock while opening the door. He’s loud, his breath’s raspy, and he doesn’t feel guilty ― he knows that if Talia and Bruce didn’t want him here, they’d at least lock the door.

“Mother!” Damian doesn’t yell, but his voice comes very close to a scream.

Talia’s head immediately snaps at his direction, eyes wide and feral, more wolf than human. She’s sitting on the bed, her back turned to him, wearing nothing but a bra and large sweatpants. When she moves it’s like a predator, but Damian doesn’t feel scared; she’s his mother, she won’t ever hurt him, he knows he can trust her with his life. Talia doesn’t look away from him not even for a second ― and, when she’s close enough, she slaps him with the back of her hand.

It’s not a strong slap, it barely hurts, but it’s burning when she falls to her knees and hugs him, so Damian lets a small and unsatisfied sound come from his throat until she holds him tight enough that he can barely breath. It’s warm, comfortable, and Damian hugs her back without thinking twice. Talia’s shaking slightly, and he notices purple spots on her skin.

“You silly, silly boy.” she breathes deeply against his hair, her voice low, hoarse. Her fingers brush his cheeks, caressing him. “Why did you tell that you could hear them? Why did you tell, Damian?”

It takes a moment for him to understand what she’s talking about, and another to notice why she’s asking. Then, Damian understands, and is very careful when snuggling against her frame. Talia rubs his back, his shoulders, she presses her lips against his temples and caresses his hair. He accepts it, leaning to her, breathing quietly and trying to think of something he can say without making her mad.

“Cain was going to attack Grayson.” he mutters against her skin, closing his eyes. “I thought it was important to tell, Mother.”

Talia scratches his neck, and Damian _melts_ in her arms, a satisfied sigh coming through his lips. She hums happily, nuzzling into their embrace. It’s comfortable enough for him to feel sleepy once more, and he doesn’t bother trying to open his eyes again.

“Sleep, my brave little boy.” Talia caresses his cheeks, her hands warmer than before, her voice kind. “We can talk about it later.”

Damian wants to, but can’t find the will to argue. When Talia starts humming their lullaby, he gives in completely, relaxing in her arms, all the earlier tension leaving his body; Damian whimpers quietly, almost unoticeably, because he missed it. It’s what gives him strenght to find his voice.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” the question comes out as a murmur, and although Talia’s always told him to talk properly if he was going to talk with her, she doesn’t seem particularly bothered right now, judging by the way she brings him closer to her chest, in her lap, one of her arms already picking the back of his knees. “And – will Father be here?”

“If you want us to.”

Damian hums, content, because it’s an answer good enough for him.

[ _his family’s safe for now ― he can worry about the rest later_ ]

**.**

It’s somewhere past four in the morning when Damian wakes up startled, the breath caught in his throat, his heart beating way too fast inside his chest. There are arms around him, not only Talia’s but somebody else’s too, and as soon as he notices it he starts struggling, panic pumping inside his veins like venom.

“Hey, hey, it’s me, Damian, it’s me.” Bruce’s voice is strong, soothing, and it makes him stop moving immediately. “It’s alright, don’t worry.”

Damian tries to recover his breath, and Bruce pats his back in a comforting way. Just then the boy starts noticing what’s going on. He’s slightly pressed against Talia’s chest, and Bruce’s right behind him, both of them surrounding him with their arms. It’s familiar and it makes him feel safe. Damian frowns, not able to understand why he woke up so suddenly, exhaustion making him feel a little bit angry at himself.

“Father?” his voice’s rough from his sleep, flooded by confusion.

He doesn’t even need to ask for an explanation ― or anything else ―, because, as soon as the word leaves his mouth, Bruce’s scratching his neck exactly in the sensible spot where Talia uses to grab him when they’re in wolf form. Damian shudders, but the care is welcome, so he leans in to his father’s hand, a low and satisfied sound escaping from his mouth. His mind starts to drift into the sleep once again, but he tries to fight off the lazyness that makes his mind so blurry.

“There was – a sound, Father – I –”

“It’s just your brother.” Bruce comes closer, his chest against Damian’s back, and the boy closes his eyes. Talia, even unconscious, sighs quietly, moving so she’s near them, effectively making impossible for Damian to escape without waking up his parents. “They were worried about you, so they came up to sleep in our room tonight.”

As if to prove a point, both of them hear Dick mumbling to himself in a sleepy voice something about bats and birds. Damian’s too tired to fight the smile, so he just snuggles more into his parents embrace.

“Even Kane?”

He can notice the amusement in his father’s voice when Bruce answers.

“Yes, Damian, even Kate.”

Dick mumbles once more, and he feels himself being surrunded by darkness.

[ _it feels natural, familiar ― like coming home after a long day of work_ ]

[ _he likes the feeling_ ]

**I**

Damian would’ve done something to avoid the disaster if he knew what was about to come.

But he didn’t, and now there’s nothing he can do to change that.

**.**

It starts when Jason and Dick decide to spar in the gym.

Damian’s watching them with critical eyes ― saving what’s important, like new moves and old ones that he needs to practice, and ignoring their talk ―, and Cassandra’s at his side. Her body’s all relaxed, but her eyes betray her façade; she knows that, recently, every time that the boys train, they end up fighting, shouting and growling at each other like wild animals. Damian thinks it has something to do with Todd turning twenty-one in the next month or so, because then he’ll have to choose if he’ll stay or if he’ll go ― it has to do with him being an alpha, and a very angry one. He’s reckless, and Bruce’s having a hard time trying to keep him in check, to keep him controlled; sometimes, it takes both him and Dick to take something out of Jason’s mind, and even then, sometimes they don’t manage to convince him. Talia avoids staying at any side, mostly because she seems to believe they’re all being too childish to say anything in the matter ― Damian knows she cares not only about the pack but Todd’s well-being, and he knows she’s getting tired of seeing them fight about every little thing.

Being sincere with himself, Damian never thought about Jason leaving the pack. He knows that, even being overly agressive most of the time ― at least in the last months ―, the older one always makes sure that everybody’s safe and the less propense to get into danger when he needs to go away for some time. Jason doesn’t show how much he cares, not like Dick, but Damian never doubted ― not even once since he was born ― about how much the pack ( _the family_ ) means to him.

He looks at Jason again, and his instincts immediately go into alert. Cassandra’s not watching them sparring around because she wants to prevent them from doing something dangerous or that can split up the pack ― she’s watching them because they’re _fighting._ There’s nothing playful or safe in the way they fight around; Jason’s broad shoulders tense, Dick’s whole body is a mass of energy directed into fast moves and punches. Damian feels a lump in his throat, his own body tensing at the sudden wave of nausea that bursts through his guts.

 _Mother told him about these fights ― they don’t mean any_ **_threat_ ** _to the pack, but they’re meant to reafirmate someone’s place in the hierarchy, especially when there’s too many alphas in a family. she’s explained that it’s not like they don’t like each other anymore ― they do, but they’re supposed to lead their own packs, it’s in their blood to fight for dominancy and control. Dick’s an exception, she said, but not because he’s not meant to greatness, it’s because he’s familiar with the ambient in a way many of them don’t because of how he was raised. but Jason wasn’t raised like Dick ― or Damian, for all that matters ―, and that’s not how he sees the world._

Damian’s not aware of what happened before, he doesn’t know what makes Jason be so stubborn, and it’s not because he doesn’t want to; Talia told him it’s not her right to do it without consent, and Jason’s not willing to share.

It makes Damian want to put himself between them, to avoid the fight at all costs. He’s mad at them for relaying so much in primitive instincts ― he’s certain he’s **not** going to be like this when he grow up ―, and he’s mad at Father for letting them. But, right before he can throw himself between his siblings, Cassandra holds him in place. He stares at her, scowling, but Cain doesn’t free him. She nods towards the other two.

“Not fight.” Cassandra shakes her head, her voice quiet as a whisper, as if to not disturb the others. Then, she points Jason. “Anger. He… Hurt.” Damian doesn’t try to correct her, and Cassandra points towards Dick. “He – helping.”

The Wayne heir doesn’t quite understand **how** Grayson’s helping training with Jason like they both want to tear each other to shreds, but that’s not his call to do. If Cain says they don’t mean a real threat to each other, she’s less likely to be wrong than him ― Cassandra knows a lot of things about how a pack works. She doesn’t talk properly yet, and she probably never will, but she does share most of her knowledge with him when they turn into wolves, because it’s easier for her this way. But even then, even trusting her, Damian can’t help but flinch with his brothers moves, too violent and focused to make him feel a little bit comfortable ― it’s like they _really want_ to hurt each other; and the impression leaves him uneasy about their safety.

Damian narrows his eyes for a moment before looking away. Cassandra squeezes his hand with a kind hold, all her body showing off reassurance and confidence; and he kind of feels jealous of her for it.

He can’t stand watching his own pack acting like this ― _the wolf doesn’t like it either, it makes him crawl under Damian’s skin, howling to get out, pleading to put everything under control before they hurt each other really badly._

He takes in a sharp breath before returning his gaze at his brothers sparring.

Damian only notices that there’s something **very wrong** when, after five more minutes or so, Cassandra freezes. He’s about to ask her the reason behind it when his eyes catch the utterly _disaster_ that ends up being Jason’s move; his whole body’s moving during a moment, and then it’s not anymore, frozen in the middle of everything. Dick was already moving to block him and retaliate, and can’t control himself in time to stop the attack. His foot hits Jason’s face with full force and sents the younger one roughly to the ground, a loud crackening sound echoing through the gym.

It all seems to happen in a blink of eyes.

(None of them reacts fast enough)

“Jay!”

“Todd!”

“ _Crap!_ I’m sorry!”

Dick, being the one clsoer, is the first one to kneel besides his hurt brother, touching his shoulders; Damian and Cassandra are over them a moment later, her features worried and his eyes betraying how freaked out he feels. Jason’s arm covers his entire face, his breath is ragged and he’s still shaking heavily. Damian knows he’s in pain, he recognizes the tension on his brother’s chest, the smell of blood filling the air.

“Let me look at this, Jay, please.” Dick pleads, his voice weak, his face shiny with sweat from the fight. “I’m sorry, oh god, I’m sorry! It wasn’t supposed to really hit you!”

“I’m fine, ‘ya creepy.” Jason gives a short, breathless laugh. It doesn’t sound right ― it’s too rough, and his chest makes a horrible scratching noise ―; Damian resists the urge to tell him to shut up and let them check him. “Stop suffocating me, Goldie, and we’ll be ok.”

Dick and Cassandra look at each other, and there’s a mutual understanding between them. She carefully lays a hand on Jason’s chest, touching and pressing slightly. Damian knows what they’re doing, and decides he’ll try to help the only way he can: distracting Todd before things get really messy. He crawls around them until he can reach the older’s scalp. Jason’s hair is wet with sweat, but the boy seems to calm down a little once he starts caressing it.

“Jay. Listen to me, okay? I think it might be better call Bruce, or Alfred, or both. I – I’m barely touching you, Jay. We think there’s something wrong –”

“ _Shut up._ ”

Todd’s voice is cold as steel, almost growled. Damian shouldn’t ― because he’s an alpha and he does not need to fear anyone ―, but he recoils immediately, and so does Cassandra. Dick’s the only one who doesn’t seem to notice the threat shown in those two words; he squeezes Jason’s shoulders a little more tight. Damian stares in horror before Todd slaps the eldest’s hand away.

“I’m not kiding – your bones –”

“ _There’s nothing wrong with my bones!_ ” Jason manages to turn on his stomach, voice muffled through his gritted teeth. Blood splatters on the floor with a sickening sound, running from his mouth to his lips and jaw. The way he shakes, however, has nothing to do with pain. “Shut the fuck up!”

None of them tries to come closer ― Talia taught them not to mess with an enraged and pained wolf, and Jason’s too far gone in his own mind to actually care or mind about any of them if he see them as a threat. Damian glances at Dick, whose eyes don’t let Jason not even for a moment; Grayson sighs heavily, his shoulders dropping.

“Okay.” his voice’s soft, almost a whisper, as if he’s talking to a wounded animal. “You want us to grab a pack of ice for you, Jay? Bandage or –”

“No.” Jason takes in a sharp breath, his voice less agressive than before. “Just – leave me alone, ok?”

Dick and Cassandra share a look, and, when Cain takes Damian by the arm, he needs to resist the urge to yell at them. They’re being fool ― they’re letting him go to deal with his problems all on his own, and the thought makes him mad. Jason’s not a stranger, he’s not a guest or visitor. He’s pack ― _he’s family_ ―, and he should be treated as well. He shouldn’t be left alone nor he should feel the need to be; they should help him, they should make him see that he doesn’t need to be always only on his own, that he can trust them because he won’t ever be left down or truly alone.

But wasn’t that what Dick was trying to do? To show Jason that he doesn’t need to voice out his problems to be helped? It makes Damian stop to look at his older brother. Dick stops too, staring at him with a confused face. _but, even then, it doesn’t feel right. it doesn’t_ **_seem_ ** _right. Dick shouldn’t ever has so much sadness inside his eyes._ **_ever_** _._

“Todd.” his voice is harsh as always, but, when he turns to his other brother, Damian’s gaze softens. Jason’s looking at him, finally showing the side of his face that was hit ― a nasty bruise’s already forming, red and purple coloring from his cheekbone all the way down to his jaw and lips, blood running down his chin. Part of Damian wants to transform and lick the blood off, help him to cope with the pain, but he’ll respect the elder’s desire to be left alone. “I hope you didn’t forget we have a meeting with Father’s investors tonight. Mother would be very disappointed if you don’t show up in time to go with us.”

[ _she won’t_ ― _Talia hates Bruce’s work meetings almost as much as she hates the corrupt people that poison their territory with cruelty and terror, and she’d skip them if it wasn’t to keep their image out there_ ]

A flash of a smile crosses Jason’s face, but it’s a sad one, stained with blood and pain.

[ _it sends a wave of strange and confused feelings inside Damian_ ― _it twists his guts and makes him want to cringe_ ]

“I’ll be there, brat.”

Both Damian and the wolf know he’s lying.

**.**

Jason doesn’t show up in time to go to the meeting.

Jason doesn’t show up at all.

[ _his fault, his fault_ ― _he should’ve done something, but he didn’t, and now his brother went missing_ ]

**.**

“I don’t know where he could’ve gone.” Dick finally blurts out his despair, after five whole days searching for his brother. His eyes are blown wide, his hands clenched into fists, and waves of anxiety come from him in a way that they shouldn’t, making everyone in the room tense. “I don’t – we covered whole Gotham, Bruce, and there wasn’t a trace of him anywhere. Just – there wasn’t.”

They’ve been going out and trying to find Jason relentlessly every night, every moment, they ask and they hunt and they hope, but there’s no sign of him in Gotham; it’s almost like he hadn’t ever steped into the city. Damian’s been feeling sick to death, and although he said plenty of times that he can ― _and should_ ― go out with the rest of the pack, Talia won’t let him. She says it’s too dangerous, that she can’t take the risk of losing another one of her sons; she also prohibited all of them ― Bruce included ― from going out alone; she wants them going out in pairs, in trios. The only difference from when Terry left is that none of them actually _knows_ if Jason ran away because he wanted to, or if there’s something going on; and, with Todd missing, they can’t even have an idea.

Bruce’s been almost as stressed out as Talia, and it ends up leaving all of them uneasy. Tim didn’t sleep more than ten hours in the last three days ― his eyes are bloodshot and wild, like he’s about to tear someone apart ―, Barbara keeps sighing and running her hands through her hair with such ferocity that Damian’s 98% sure she’s trying to rip it off. Kate keeps glaring at the fireplace like all the answers will burst through the flame at any moment ― guess she really cares about them, after all ―, and Stephanie can’t stop shaking like she’s about to burst crying. The only ones somewhat composed are Alfred and Cassandra, and even them are tense, worry in their eyes as they watch the family crumble.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Bruce quietly presses his lips together, a thin line being formed. “It wasn’t anybody’s fault, Dick. We don’t know what happened, he – Jason might be okay. He knows how to handle himself.”

“He’s probably going after Terry.” Stephanie mumbles, and there’s a bit of hope in her voice, so weak and so hollow and barely there, Damian can’t help but snuggle even more into Mother’s embrace, hoping that it’ll make it all stop aching. “He was really upset when T left, remember? Wanted to track him down and bring him back.”

But it’s been months by now, it’s been _almost a whole year by now._ They know this. There’s no good at lying, and, yet, here are they: trying to pretend that Jason didn’t come home because he didn’t want to, that he didn’t come because he’s playing one of those awful jokes he likes to say around a lot. But they’re lying.

_they’re lying because everybody knows that Jason’s not coming home; everybody knows that he didn’t just go and got lost, but they didn’t find anything that could lead them to him and now they’re running out of options. if Jason didn’t run away, then why he’s gone? and, if he ran, why the bond hasn’t been broken yet?_

Damian remembers the pain that crossed his body when Terry broke the bond to free himself from the pack. He remembers the feeling of losing something ― someone ― when the boy finished the work. It was painful, exhaustive, and ended up making him feel like a puzzle with a missing piece. Damian doesn’t want to feel it with Jason, he suddenly realizes. He doesn’t want to lose his brother, his partner in pissing Drake off, his pack. Jason can be a real burden if he wants to, but he’s – hell, he –

“Shhh, calm down, baby, calm down.”

 _Damian can’t breath_. He’s struggling and trying to push his arms against his chest, to try and ease the pain. Then, a large hand starts caressing his back in slow, warm circles, as if trying to calm him down by using patterns. Damian knows it’s his father and, although it’s comforting, it doesn’t really help him feeling better.

‘ _I want him back_ ’ he almost chokes out, closing his eyes shut, trying to avoid showing how much it scares him to feel like he’s never going to meet Jason again. ‘ _I want my brother back, bring him home!_ ’

“We’ll find him, Damian.” Talia tries to soothe him, and the whole pack’s around them, caressing his back, his hair, holding his hands. It’s the first time in his whole life that he feels like a child and doesn’t try to fight it back. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“Breath.” Bruce instructs him, his head laying faintly against his son’s back. His voice sounds like a command, but his tone is soft, comforting. “We need you to keep calm. It’s going to be ok.”

Damian takes in a sharp breath, and Dick praises him with a content sigh, snuggling into him. Cassandra nuzzles against the Wayne heir’s shoulder, Stephanie right behind her, touching his hands. Barbara rests her head against Talia, caressing Damian’s hair, and Tim’s somewhere between pressed against his side and resting against Mother. Kate’s behind them, not touching or laying with the pack, but he can see in her eyes the comfort, the promise that she’ll go to hell and back for their family.

And Damian believes them.

He trusts them.

[ _later, when he wakes up screaming bloody murder, Damian knows it was a mistake ― they were wrong_ ]

**.**

Fire rips through his body, opening him from the inside.

His ribcage hurts, like it’s being hit again and again, pain shoting through his nerves and into his brain. Damian cries out loud, trying to fight it off, because, deep down in his guts, he knows it’s not real, it’s not happening. Talia enters his line of vision, her face pale as a sheet, her lips drained from any color, and she’s trying to say something to him, but the rush of blood in his ears blocks out any noise from outside.

_the pain is raw, despair spinning inside his body. he can feel his bones being broken, every crack reverbating through him, another scream escaping from his mouth in pure agony._

But it’s not him. It’s not him, Damian’s safe, he’s unharmed, and it’s so hard to believe in his own mind when his whole body seems to be on fire. When the pain subsides a little, he braces himself, knowing that it’ll hurt even more when it comes back. He rolls on his stomach, concentrating on his own heartbeat, and the sudden tension coming through his muscles alerts him when another wave of pain rips his spine in two and makes him cry his lungs out. Damian can practically _feel_ the blood in his lips, he can **taste** it ― and he knows he’s not the only one when Drake runs to he bathroom, making a gag sound, and Mother surrounds him with her arms immediately.

She’s warm, and Damian suddenly notices he’s drenched in sweat, shaking heavily. He can see Barbara laying on the floor, her body shuddering with the raw pain, and Dick curling around her as if to protect her from the world. Cassandra’s hugging her knees, eyes wide, and she seems a little green. Stephanie has her forehead against the other girl’s shoulder, sobbing, and Kate holds them close, whispering comforting words, although her face is scrunched up in pain. Bruce’s nowhere to be seen, but it probably means he’s gone after Tim.

_none of them is hurt. none of them is dying. it takes barely a second for Damian to understand what’s going on, and immediately his body stiffens. when another wave of pain explodes inside his brain, the way his throat hurts tells him he won’t be able to talk for at least a week._

He wants it to stop. He wants the pain to go awy. Tears run down his cheeks, cold, and he feels unable to stop it. _it hurts like someone’s trying to cut him open, and he finally knows where the pain is coming from._

**Jason. It comes from Jason.**

[ _the sharp pain inside his chest tells him that Jason’s fighting it to break the bond ― to break it before unconsciousness takes him_ ]

“No.” he pleads to his mother, voice barely audible. “Please. Make him stop. Make it stop. _Make it stop!_ ”

But it doesn’t. It hits him in the guts, ripping him apart, and Damian cries out loud once more; Barbara follows him, and Stephanie’s sobs grow louder. Blood fills his mouth, the taste of iron leaving him nauseated. Talia tries to soothe him, her fingers on his back, on his hair, but it doesn’t help, and he needs to curl and spit it out, choking on the horrible taste. Somewhere inside the Manor, he can hear Tim crying, he can her Father gritting his teeth, almost growling.

 _he’s not only being hunt. he’s being hurt._ **_he’s dying._ **

And, suddenly, just like it stared, it ends.

Damian needs a moment to understand, and, then, his whole world feels numb.

_the bond is broken._

Jason’s gone.

[ _the emptiness inside is chest seems ready to eat him alive_ ]

[ _Damian doesn’t try to fight it_ ]

**Author's Note:**

> Damian’s point of view is A LOT different from Talia’s. She raised him to be the new “Prince of Gotham”, to be an alpha, to believe he was meant to greatness. The thing is: he is just a _boy_. He’s a _child_. And he’s _powerful_. Their pack/family is powerful, and they’re too many. It’s not just Ra’s that’s out there to get them (although he’s specially focused on Damian).
> 
>  **NOTE** : Damian's one ends right before the long-fic (and I'll be posting it - someday).
> 
> Any question/request/desire to talk about anything, you can contact me here, [ tumblr](http://firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin.tumblr.com/), [ twitter](https://twitter.com/notmadetobeheld) or [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notmadetobeheld)


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